


No way, Osé!

by heavenindaylight



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Humor, Masturbation, Sexual Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenindaylight/pseuds/heavenindaylight
Summary: Feeling hot and bothered, Donna finds it increasingly harder to ignore certain desires. With the one person she longs for being off-limits, she takes matters in her own hands, but things don’t exactly pan out the way she had planned. Pre-canon, post 8x05. One-shot.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Kudos: 21





	No way, Osé!

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I actually managed to finish and post this after the roughest week I can remember. But I’m so glad to finally be able to share this story with you. It’s been a blast writing it!
> 
> Big thanks to Anna, Blue and Yvonne for letting me pick their brains ‘til it hurts, for them beta-ing and just being the supportive power-house women they are. You guys rock!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story, and please leave a review. It means the world!
> 
> -K

.

.

Donna was horny.

The feeling wasn’t new, not really. She was a woman still very much in her sexual prime, but that well-known want had struck more often in the past few months. No coincidence, she thought to herself, but the frequency was now at the point where it was getting rather inconvenient.

Everything escalated after the night of Mike and Rachel’s wedding. They’d danced together, swaying in each other’s arms in a way they hadn’t done before. The intimacy of the moment had awakened feelings she thought she’d buried, but once again, they had crept to the surface.

The bothersome part was that she was constantly wet. All the time. She was now at a place where she had to bring a change of underwear in her bag because she couldn’t go a day without him affecting her in that way. Who could blame her though? His suits were hugging his body in all the right ways, and when he wore her favorite gray one, his package was conveniently accentuated, reminding her of how she’d felt his slightly hardened groin grazing her heated one on the dance floor. Still, they had both failed to do anything about it.

The thought was maddening.

But they were back to their normal now, whatever the hell _normal_ meant. And like their usual tango, they avoided touching whatever was going on between them with a ten-foot pole. It hadn’t played out very nicely the last time she had tried, so she wasn’t going to engage in that eventuality knowing her odds were pretty weak. Or so she thought.

A couple of days ago he’d even teased the subject of strawberries and whipped cream, reproducing images in her mind she’d fought so long to try and forget.

And it absolutely didn't help the ever-growing heat in her lower belly. She’d thought about approaching other men, but that wouldn’t solve anything either, knowing they weren’t _him._ She’d almost gone there with Mark, but her intuition told her being with him would never fill the void in her heart left by the man sitting in the dimly-lit office down the hall.

So every day since the wedding, she’d gone home unfulfilled and in need of some relief. She was well trained in self-pleasure, very much so after years of being single and self-reliant. But she had come to the conclusion that a little extra help wouldn’t hurt. She had some toys tucked away in her night stand, but nothing that really excited her anymore. 

That’s why a couple of days ago she’d gone online to do some research as to what was currently popular in the women’s self-pleasure department. After an hour or so she found a rather interesting looking piece of equipment that piqued her interest and had the potential of filling her needs to the extent she immediately ordered it without further consideration.

Her spur of the moment purchase was the reason she was currently shaking her legs impatiently underneath her office desk, waiting for the clock to strike eight so she could shut down her laptop and leave work. She’d gotten the delivery notice an hour earlier, so she knew the package would be waiting for her when she got home. 

Just as she was about to pack her things, she heard his well-known footsteps approach her office, and as she lifted her eyes towards the door, she couldn’t help them landing on _his_ package engulfed in tailor-made Tom Ford. 

“Hey, Donna, before you leave could you please just sign these papers,” Harvey said, as he looked up from the folder in his hands.

Donna swallowed hard, suddenly realizing she was staring. And not at his eyes.

“Uhm… Yeah. Sure. I just have to find a pen,” she said, as she fumbled around in her purse.

A low chuckle escaped Harvey’s throat.

“What?” Donna asked, furrowing her brows.

He grinned, pointing towards the desk between them. “There’s one _right_ there.”

She felt a flush of pink rising to the top of her head.

“Right.” She gulped, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Give me the folder so I can be on my way.”

“Need to be anywhere?” he asked, sporting a look Donna could’ve mistaken for jealousy. 

“No,” she answered, dragging the word, all the while biting her lower lip. “It’s just been a long day, Harvey. I’m tired and keen on getting home and going to bed.”

She signed the last page with extra force, almost tearing the paper, a wasted attempt trying to divert her pent up frustration into an inanimate object, her pen, rather than him.

Harvey gave her a puzzled look but seemed to accept her explanation.

“Okay, then. I’m sorry I kept you,” he said, the apology sincere, yet curiosity was still covering his face. “See you tomorrow.”

He was out the door, folder in hand before she even had the chance to reply. If she hadn't been riled up before, she sure as hell was now. His proximity was getting too much to handle, his scent still lingering in the air of her office.

She was a goner. And she was going home to get off.

.

.

Less than twenty minutes later she was entering the lobby of her apartment building, eager to collect the entertainment that was awaiting her. The concierge, Larry, a rather small and chubby figure, was standing behind the front desk, frantically swiping left and right on his phone, oblivious to the fact Donna was fully aware of what he was doing. 

“Good evening, Larry!” she said, barely catching his attention. “I think there’s a delivery waiting for me here. Could you go get it?”

“I can’t get you something which isn’t here,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Wha—“

“There haven’t been any deliveries today.”

“Are you sure?”

He gasped, hand to his heart in disbelief. “Are you doubting my work capabilities?” 

_What a drama-queen_.

“I probably should,” she said, eyeing his phone, her raised eyebrows giving away the fact she knew exactly what he was doing. “And I got a delivery confirmation a couple of hours ago, so...”

Larry finally put the phone down on the desk in front of him. He drew a deeply dramatic breath while pushing away a non-existing stray hair from his face. “I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’m serious. There really haven’t been any deliveries the whole day. I swear on my grandmother’s grave.”

“Didn’t you visit her like last week?”

“Not the point,” he said, his index finger springing into the air. “How many times do I have to tell you. There is no package for you here. I don’t know how else to explain it to you.”

Donna suddenly froze, her veins all at once ice cold. A realization popped into her mind, yet she was unwilling to believe she could have been _that_ reckless. _No_. 

“Are you okay, Ms. Paulsen?” Larry’s voice brought her out of the trance she found herself in. 

Flustered at the thought that had just hit her, she gave him some lame story about how she must’ve read wrong and excused herself before she headed upstairs. 

The elevator ride felt longer than usual, her anxiousness escalating in sync with the ascending cart as each floor passed. _Fuck this can’t be happening._ She approached her door, fumbling for the keys. Entering her apartment she headed straight to her laptop, opening her e-mail and searching for her order-confirmation. 

Her whole body went stiff as she read the words she dreaded would be there:

**Delivery address:**

**Mr. Harvey R. Specter**

**60 Cooper Square**

**New York, NY 10003**

_Oh, for fuck’s sake!_

Donna’s heart was racing now, drops of sweat appearing on her forehead while her hands were suddenly uncomfortably clammy. How could she have been so unbelievably stupid and careless, so long gone and desperate for release that she’d forgotten to check the delivery address. 

_Goddammit._

Somehow his address must’ve been saved to her profile on Amazon, when she ordered his birthday gift last week as surprise to be delivered to his place. She didn’t even think to double check in the haste of the moment when she'd placed the order for the toy that was currently residing on the doorstep of the man whose whole existence was the reason for her need to buy that stupid thing in the first place. 

_No no no no no. This can’t be real._

Grabbing her phone she dialed his number, praying to whatever almighty power willing to listen that he hadn’t gotten home yet. 

The line rang.

Then again. 

And again. 

_Oh for chrissake, pick up you idi—_

“Don—”

“Harvey! Good.” She breathed, pinching the bridge between her nose.

“Donna... what’s going on. Everything alright?” he said, worry filling his voice.

“Uhm. Yeah… are you home yet?” she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat, not wanting to give away how freaked out she actually was.

“Just walked through the door. “Why?”

_Thank God!_

She was pacing around her living room, unsure where to begin this conversation. “Was there by any chance a package delivered to you today?”

She heard him pause, the sound of his keys hitting the kitchen countertop audible through the phone. “Yes. I was going to ask you about that.”

_Oh, shit._ “Did you open it yet?” _Please say you didn’t._

“No, but I was just about to—”

“Don’t!” Donna almost yelled, sounding way more frantic than she intended, cursing herself for not being able to keep her usual cool. 

“Donna. What’s going on?” Harvey asked. 

She wondered how to explain her way out of this situation, opting for the seemingly easy route. “It’s not for you.”

“What do you mean it’s not for me? It has my name on it.”

“Yes I know, Harvey.” She huffed. “But I made a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

She could swear he was smiling from ear to ear. 

“Yes, Harvey. A mistake,” she sighed. “It happens.”

“Donna Roberta Paulsen, willingly owning up to her mistakes. I’d never thought I’d see the day,” he said, voice teasing. 

Donna paused, figuring he’d had enough of fun on her behalf. “Are you done?”

“Maybe?” He dragged the word. 

“The point is,” Donna continued, trying to move the conversation forward. “After I bought your birthday gift last week I forgot to change the delivery address back to my place.”

“Right.”

“So now you’re left with a parcel that shouldn’t have been delivered to you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Donna breathed, finally sitting down on her couch, happy she’d managed to word her way out of the mishap. 

“So what’s inside it?”

Donna choked. “What?”

“The box. What did you order?” Harvey said, sounding as innocent as ever. 

“Oh. You know…” _Think, Donna. Think!_ “Just a birthday present for my dad.”

“Right.”

Awkward silence. 

“So should I just bring it to the office in the morning, then?” Harvey asked. 

Donna was not sitting anymore, scratching her face as her brain went into overdrive. “You know what?” she said, biting her lip nervously. “I’m actually meeting my dad for breakfast tomorrow and I wanted to surprise him with it. Is it okay if I pop over tonight and pick it up? Be there in… say twenty?”

Harvey paused, and his silence unnerved her.

“Sure, Donna,” he finally said. 

Maybe she was getting delusional, but she thought she could hear him grinning through the phone. 

“See you soon.”

And then he hung up. 

Relief washed over her as she let go of a breath so grand she would have blown out candles ten feet away had there been any. She’d been able to explain her way around the awkward mix-up, yet an uneasy feeling kept creeping its way into her core telling her she wasn’t completely out of the woods just yet. 

Fetching her coat and purse she headed out the door, ready to face the man who, whether he knew it or not, wouldn’t leave her thoughts. 

.

.

Donna was staring at the door, bracing herself. The plan was laid. She was going to knock, grab the cardboard box, and be on her way. It was fine. She would be fine _. Just breathe._

Three gentle knocks, ten seconds later and she was staring into his dark brown eyes. _God those eyes._

“Hey,” he said, his face oddly neutral.

“Hey,” she answered, offering him a weird smile.

“Come in.” He stepped aside, leaving space for her to pass him, her nostrils suddenly filled with musk and sandalwood.

He closed the door after her, heading towards the kitchen. “It’s in here.”

“Again I’m sorry about this whole thing.” She followed after him, but when he came to a halt at the kitchen counter, turning around with a pompous look on his face, she knew this was not panning out the way she’d wanted it to.

“Don’t worry about it Donna, it’s okay.” A smile crept its way across his face. He looked smug as hell, too smug to be honest. “I have to admit I don’t know your father that well, but I’d never guess he was into sex toys for women.”

_Holy shit, he didn’t…_

She felt herself flush with shame, her body turning red as it tended to do whenever she got cornered or in a situation she preferred to get the hell out of. She was literally boiling, her whole body heated and not _only_ because she was turned on, but the embarrassment was rapidly becoming unbearable. 

At his side was indeed the item she’d ordered, but not in the state she was expecting.

“You opened it?” she said, eyes wide as saucers.

“I did.”

_Oh, fuck..._

“Harvey!”

“Sorry, Donna. I couldn’t help myself.” He grinned, raising his shoulder nonchalantly. “Knowing you were lying through your teeth, my curiosity got the better of me.”

She didn’t know how to respond. “How...”

“Your dad’s birthday isn’t for another six months,” he answered, raising his eyebrow to show her he’d won this round. 

“I…”

“You… what?”

_Oh, you smug fucking son of a bitch!_

“Nothing,” she said, not wanting to feed his amusement. 

“Enlighten me, Donna,” Harvey said, scratching his forehead as he licked his lips. _Oh, God, those lips._ “How does this device actually work?”

“Why? You wanna try it?” she snapped, eyeing him angrily. 

That shut him up. But not for long. 

“No,” he swallowed, the movement of his Adam’s apple sending shivers down Donna’s spine. “But now I know why you were so eager to leave for the night.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” she said, eyes closed. Her voice was low as she breathed heavily trying to shift her focus to the air moving through her nostrils. 

“Where did you two meet?” He chuckled, obviously trying to sound smart as fuck. “Tinder, blind date, or in an off-off-off Broadway production?” 

“Wow,” she said, the heat in her chest growing by the minute, not sure if it was caused by humiliation or pure rage. “That’s a low blow, even for you!”

“Is that what you're going to do? Blow it?” he teased. “I haven’t had the chance to read the instructions yet, Donna, but I don’t think that’s how this thing works.”

His words put images in her mind of their night all those years ago when she indeed had blown _him_ . _Don’t look at his crotch. Oh, Lord, that bulge._ She wished the ground beneath her would just open up and swallow her whole, convinced such a fate would be more compelling than the situation she currently found herself in. “God, you’re such a dick, Harvey.”

“I am. And _this_...” he said, grabbing the box, holding it in in front of her, “is not.”

“Harvey!” she yelled, feeling her anger taking form as imagined steam out of her ears. 

_He looks so freaking good in that shirt. Fuck, why does it hug his chest so tightly._

“What?” he grinned. 

“Can you just stop?” 

“Why?” he asked, wiggling his brows. “You getting hot and bothered?” 

_Oh, God, I can see his hardened nipples. Keep your eyes up. Eyes up!_

“No, Harvey,” she said through gritted teeth. “I want you to stop because I asked you to! But you’re _you_ so I shouldn’t expect you to understand.” 

The anger running through her veins was threatening tears to form in her eyes. She willfully pushed them back down as she swallowed hard. “You go on being the man-child that you are and enjoy your incredulous sense of humor, but I’m not gonna stand here and listen to this bullshit anymore. I’m leaving.”

_Did his dick just twitch? Fuck._ Heat pooled between her legs at the sight.

She grabbed the box out of his hands, throwing him a look filled with as much disapproval she could muster, while simultaneously being turned on as hell. Not an easy task, she realized.

She spun around, ready to leave their conversation when he grabbed her arm to stop her. 

“Hey, Donna! Stop. I’m sorry.” His hands raised in defense, but his eyes told another story. “I do wish you a pleasurable evening, though.”

His wink pushed her over the edge.

“Fuck you, Harvey!”

And with that, she stomped out of his apartment, slamming the door, her fury still hanging in the air. 

She was long gone, not able to catch his last words, voice hollow and barely above a whisper. “I wish you would.”

.

.

She slammed the door behind her for the second time in twenty minutes, only this time it was her own. Entering her apartment, her whole body was shaking with rage. She threw her coat aside, not bothering to hang it up and not giving two shits about the fact it cost a fortune. She didn’t care. She was _fucking_ furious. And she needed to have it out.

Now.

Removing her heels, she found her way to the kitchen, fetching a bottle of red wine and the biggest glass she could find. As she sat down on her couch, with a full glass in hand, she found the box that up until now had only given her utter humiliation and distress, rather than the enjoyment and pleasure it had so adamantly promised.

The packaging was luxurious, as she would’ve expected, having spent nearly three hundred dollars on the thing. Three letters were imprinted on it, declaring the name of her friend for the evening.

Osé.

It was a rather new device, silly looking, kind of resembling the Ericofon from the sixties. While on the techy side of things, apparently having won a CES-award, it sparked her interest because it came with a promise of blended orgasms, without the vibrations, but rather the feel of someone bringing her to the Big-O with their fingers and mouth. It had an arm to be inserted internally to stimulate her g-spot with a come-hither motion, while the external part would engulf her clit, imitating a mouth eating her out. And with the added bonus of everything being handsfree.

That she liked. _That_ she could imagine.

She opened it, read through the instructions swiftly before connecting the item to its charger, waiting for it to get ready to serve her needs. She chugged her wine, filled it up, and chugged it once more, knowing the alcohol would help her let loose a bit more. She did have a new date this evening after all.

Not long after, Donna brought her yet-to-be-tried friend with her to her bedroom, unzipped her dress, removed her lace underwear, and lay down naked on the bed ready to be entertained. After finding a bottle of lube, soaking the toy in it, and adjusting it to accommodate her body, she was finally ready to turn this thing on.

Pushing the on-button, she was instantly taken back to memories of that night thirteen years earlier. She’d procured those memories many times before. But now, the machine between her legs made the images of Harvey’s head in the same spot, his mouth covering her southern lips, two fingers pumping her core, crisp and clear as if it happened yesterday. 

Stroking her breast she pinched her nipple tight, a low moan escaping her throat. The other thumb found its way to her mouth, sucking on it with the same passion and tenderness she did when it had been his length residing in her mouth.

With closed eyes, she let go, giving in to the sensations the toy gave her, slowly building up tension and heat in her core. Flashing by were images of strawberries and whipped cream. Kisses, moans, sweaty skin, and bodies uniting.

She could see him so clearly. She could _feel_ him.

Her imagination was vivid and intense, helping her near the edge and she could sense the big wave coming from a mile away. Her back arched in a beautiful motion as her mouth elicited a sound so guttural and raw. Close to a scream, his name left her lips as her core tightened, body shaking in ecstasy and her juices drenched the sheets underneath her.

Coming down from her high, still slightly out of breath, she slowly opened her eyes, only for reality to hit once again. 

He wasn’t there.

.

.

She tried to avoid him the next day, too flustered to face him after her strenuous solo-activity the evening before. 

She’d been successful so far, time nearing seven o'clock in the evening. But during one of Louis’ many impromptu freakouts taking place in her office, she saw Harvey’s figure slowly approaching them, not able to stop him from entering due to the constant mouth-diarrhea coming from the small, semi-bald man sitting in the chair opposite her. 

“I forgot to ask, Donna. How was your evening last night? You enjoy yourself?” Harvey asked as he entered her office. 

The internal heat she’d fought all day to calm down, reached a boiling point in the blink of an eye. His words made it impossible to look his way, not trusting herself to keep it together. 

Louis looked at her, bewildered. “I didn’t know you had any plans yesterday, Donna.”

For once not knowing how to answer that question, she hid her lips behind the cup of coffee she thankfully fetched fifteen minutes earlier, taking a sip to calm her nerves. 

“She didn’t tell you?” Harvey gasped, walking behind Louis as he grabbed his shoulder, his tongue resting mischievously in the crook of his mouth, giving Donna a teasing look she had no doubt was directed at her. 

“No!” Louis said, his hand moving to his chest to show off his insult. “She declined my invite to go to the ballet last night, saying she was in need of some long-awaited ‘me-time'.”

Donna swallowed, not oblivious to the way Harvey’s eyebrows raised in mockery at Louis’ words. “Maybe you should ask Harvey to go to the ballet with you next time,” Donna interjected, wanting to shift Louis’ focus from her to the man standing behind him. 

Harvey eyed her, not at all bothered in the way she’d hoped he’d be. 

“No way, Osé!”

His words made her choke, the hot liquid getting stuck while swallowing, resulting in her spitting coffee all over Louis’ lap. 

“What the fuck, Donna!”

“Oh, god, Louis. I’m so sor—”

“I don’t need you to be sorry, Donna! This a brand new Brioni, and you just fucking squirted all over it!”

Donna heard a low wheezing noise coming from Harvey’s throat. There was nothing she wanted more to do in this moment than to chastise him, but she didn’t want to feed into his ongoing fun fest. 

“I’m really sorry, it got stuck in my throat, an—”

“I don’t _care_. Donna. You should be glad I don’t have any more client meetings today or you’d be in some deep shit right now,” he yelled, standing up from the chair he sat in, turning around and leaving the office with the dramatic flair only Louis’ possessed. 

Pausing at the door, he turned around piercing his eyes at Donna, hurt filling his voice. “You know, yesterday I sat in the stalls thinking how much you would’ve loved that ballet. Little did I know that you stood me and the swans up for some other man.”

And then he was gone. 

Now, with her and Harvey alone, Donna dared to glance over at him, not at all surprised to find the well-known Cheshire-cat grin slapped on his face. She could fucking kill him due to how angry that smug face made her, but it undid her at the same time. And the warm pool in her lower belly had no plans to recede. 

“Poor guy, he was so proud of that suit.”

“Shut up, Harvey.”

“Come to think of it, I’m so relieved you didn’t use my corporate card. Imagine having to explain to the other partners why I, a name partner, bought the father of the firm’s COO a vibrator for his birthday. ”

He was being smug. _So fucking annoying_. But lord it did things to her. 

“Are you done?”

“What? Can’t handle me and my _excellent_ sense of humor?” he smirked.

She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head in annoyance. “I can, but you’ve had your fun, and quite frankly you’re starting to piss me the hell off!”

“Donna, I was just joking aro—”

“Don’t you dare ‘Donna’ me!” she shouted at him, as she stood from her chair in anger. “I’m so fed up with your bullshit, Harvey.”

“What bullshit?”

His unawareness pissed her off even more. 

“You, coming in here, giving me a hard time for being a self-sufficient woman, taking care of something you _clearly_ don’t have the balls to do anything about,” she snarled, waving her hand aimlessly in the air while moving around her desk and ending up in front of it,

“What are you —”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harvey. It doesn’t suit you!” she barked.

“Donna… I swear to God,” he hissed, walking over to her office door, shutting it so they’d at least get a little privacy from prying ears. “What the hell are you implying?”

“You’re jealous!” Of a fucking sex toy!” she cried out loud. The relief she felt by those words finally escaping her lips was unparalleled.

“Jesus, Donna! What the fuck has gotten into your head? You’re delirious!”

“Are you gonna deny it?” she challenged.

Harvey looked at her in disbelief, throwing his hands out. “Deny _what_ exactly?”

“You. Jerking off,” she yelled. “And thinking of _me_ while doing it.”

That shut him up. He was shaking his head in annoyance, biting his lip, the veins on his neck more evident than before. 

“Right…” she huffed. “So that stuff about strawberries and whipped cream was just some bullshit you said because you thought it was okay to start flirting with me again?” She was daring him, and she knew it. But she was so sick of their old song and dance, she didn’t have it in her to even care anymore.

“It’s what we do, Donna. It’s nothing new.”

“Bullshit!” She was screaming now. “And you know it.”

She felt herself seething through her teeth at this point. “The worst part is that you think it’s okay to play with me like that.” She tried, but couldn’t hide the hurt filling her whole being, her lips quivering as she spoke. 

Harvey’s mouth was suddenly agape, dumbfounded with eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. “I’m not playing with you.”

“Then what the hell are you doing, Harvey? Because I’m so _fucking_ tired of you and your ambiguity,” Donna yelled.

“I…”

“What?”

“I’m not playing with you,” he said again, “because there’s nothing to play with.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Donna howled.

“How can I be playing with you when you didn’t feel anything?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. He looked beaten. Defeated even. 

“What?” She paused in bewilderment, furrowing her brows, her eyes asking him to elaborate. 

“After you kissed me… You said you didn’t feel anything.”

His words stunned her. 

“Am I wrong? That’s what you said, right?” He was challenging her now. 

“Yes, but…”

“Yes but what?”

Donna bit her lip in frustration “I know that’s what I said,” she said, her whole body slumped in surrender, “but it’s not what I meant.”

Harvey paused, his eyes furrowed in confusion. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he had an entire inner discussion with himself as to what her words meant. 

Not able to reach a conclusion he asked, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I lied,” she whispered, fiddling her fingers nervously, “when I told you I didn’t feel anything when I kissed you.”

Harvey looked completely stunned, as if her words made no sense at all. “Why?”

“Because you were so angry with me, and you made me promise to never do anything like that again,” she confessed, barely able to look at him. “But I’m tired, Harvey. I’m so _fucking_ tired,” she cried, the tears getting harder to keep at bay with every passing second. “I can’t do this anymore. The pretending. The bullshit we keep telling ourselves how whatever’s going on between us doesn’t _mean_ anything.”

“Donna…” Harvey pleaded, silently asking him to tell him what to do to make her feel better. 

She shook her head in rejection. If he couldn’t figure that out himself, there was no hope for them whatsoever. A sigh escaped her as tears ran down her cheek and she confessed, “I’m done, Harvey. I’m sorry. I just… I can’t do this anymo—”

His lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence, swallowing her words. The kiss was soft and tender. Everything and nothing like she remembered him. The other time had been hasty and filled with lust. This was slow, loving and reassuring. A statement. Then he silently moved back. 

“If you’d just let me speak… please?”

She just blinked, too stunned to answer. 

“How could you ever believe it doesn’t mean anything?”

“But you always said —”

“What part of _me_ speaking didn’t you get?” He laughed, his thumb softly stroking her cheek. 

She felt a blush rise on her face, not able to hide the grin he elicited. 

“Sorry. Go on,” she chuckled. 

“You. Me. _Us._ It means _everything_ to me. And while I may not have always known how or what I want _us_ to look like, I do now,” Harvey said reassuringly, thumbing away a single tear on her cheek. 

“What are you saying?” She swallowed. 

“I want us to not only mean everything. I want us to _be_ everything. To each other. Share everything with each other. And not only here,” he said, his eyes moving as to show he meant their workplace. “But out there as well.”

Her eyes teared up, lips trembling as she smiled softly at him. “I’d like that.”

.

.

As opposed to the evening before, tonight she entered her apartment happy, hands entwined with the man who’d occupied her dreams for the past decade. 

Donna closed the door behind them, turning around to meet Harvey’s eyes. Not only to welcome him into the confined space of her own home but into her life in a new way. One they’d barely tasted thirteen years ago, because they were both too scared to lose the other and risk ruining what they actually had back then, agreeing _something_ was better than nothing at all. 

Locking eyes, she could see he was thinking the same thing she was. The realization hitting them at the same time. 

_This is it_. 

She moved her hand to cup his cheek, her soft skin against his stubbled one. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Harvey answered, his eyes glistening in the dim light. 

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

His hands found her hips, drawing her close, foreheads touching as their noses danced like lovers do. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing hard as he closed his eyes, internally swearing at his earlier behavior.

“What for?” 

“For being a dick.”

“If there’s one thing you should never be sorry for, it’s _that_ ,” she flirted, eyebrows raised and a crooked smile on her face.

He chuckled, moving his head back while tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” she said, voice soft as she bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry too. For being so angry with you. It just came to a point where I couldn't take it anymore.”

“That’s what thirteen years of no touching does to a person,” he laughed softly.

“Twelve and a half,” she corrected, fingers grazing his chest feeling the tight muscles underneath his clothes.

“So we’re good?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah. We’re good,” she smiled.

“Good.”

She could feel his chest draw in a breath, heavy and hopeful, his head tilting letting his lips find hers. She leaned in. 

To him. 

To them. 

To their reunion. 

Her lips opened slightly, allowing his tongue to find hers. The taste of him was familiar, yet exciting and new, as if she could sense the thirteen years of missed opportunities finally reaching the finish line. 

A new beginning. 

His hands reached behind her neck, deepening the kiss, fingers grasping her hair passionately, sending a bolt of lightning to her core, a moan escaping her throat. 

That obviously undid him. 

He pushed her backward to the nearest wall, almost knocking her breath out by the surprise.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he groaned, between kisses and hands stroking the side of her breasts. 

“No, it’s okay,” she breathed, a chuckle escaping her as she gave in to the increasing desperation between them. 

“You sure?” he breathed, his lips tracing their way down her neck. 

“If there’s anything I’m sure of Harvey,” she whimpered, as his hands traveled up her legs, teasing the apex of her thigh, “it’s that I’m more than okay with what we’re about to do right now.”

“And what is that, if I may ask?” he teased, his hot breath on her ears sending shivers throughout her whole body. 

Swallowing hard, she turned her head, finding his eyes, lips lightly touching his. “I don’t know about you, Harvey,” she said, voice hoarse and sultry, “but I was hoping you were about to make love to me.”

She kissed his lips seductively but could feel him pause. Furrowing her brows she moved her head back again, searching his eyes for an answer to what was going on in his mind. 

“What?” she asked, trying to hide the rapidly growing worry suddenly constricting her throat. 

His eyes were filling up, and by the look on his face, she could tell he was a bit surprised by his own reaction. “I just...” he started, searching for his words. “I didn’t realize until now that’s how you actually feel.”

Touched by his self-conscious confession, she took his hand in hers and moved it to the left side of her chest. 

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

He nodded, her pulse distinct under his fingertips. 

“My heart has beaten like that since the moment I met you. There might’ve been times when I couldn’t tell, ‘cause it went into hiding, I didn’t understand what it was telling me, it hurt a bit too much or I was too afraid to listen to it. But it was there, steady and never wavering. My love for you, Harvey, has _never_ wavered.”

He stayed silent, too overwhelmed to speak. 

“I love you, Harvey, with everything I am,” she said, voice trembling. “And if you’ll let me, I’d like to make love to you, too.”

He nodded again, before leaning in to give her another kiss, a silent ‘thank you’ stained with salt. 

She entwined her fingers with his, leading him to her bedroom. It struck her upon entering that he hadn’t been in there since the other time. 

“Welcome back,” she smiled, trying to hide the slight nervousness in her voice. 

“You’ve redecorated,” he said, slightly puzzled. 

She couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, suddenly a wave of self-consciousness hit her, even though she knew she had impeccable taste. She didn’t know why, but for some reason she really _wanted_ him to like it. “I have.”

“It’s nice,” he said, nodding in approval.

A shy smile found its way across her face. “Thank you.”

“Just like you,” he flirted. 

“You think I’m nice?” she asked longingly, lashes fluttering as she found his dark eyes. 

“More than,” he whispered. “You’re everything I ever wanted, and more.”

He rendered her speechless, so she didn’t respond. Yet her soft smile told him she heard every word. 

He leaned in, lips tracing her cheek, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

“And I love you, too.” 

Her knees buckled at his words. She knew they were on the horizon, slowly forming in his heart until he was ready to tell her again. 

And now he had. 

And she finally knew how.

He kissed his way down her neck, hands grabbing her shoulders, turning her around so her back was facing him. His fingers tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, moving the rest of her fiery locks to the side so the back of her dress was fully exposed. 

His index finger and thumb found the zipper, and as her breath staggered at his touch, the only sound audible in the room was that of small pieces of metal being dragged apart to reveal her cream-colored, freckled figure underneath the exquisite piece of couture. 

A thud followed, and the heavy piece of wool crepe lay scattered on the floor. 

Leaning to her right, she grabbed the heel of her stilettos, her naked feet meeting the soft carpet underneath her, tickling its way between her toes. 

She felt him approach, his hands finding their way around her waist, pulling her towards him. Her barely clad behind met the bulge of his pants, causing a low moan to escape her throat. She hissed as his finger teased the lining of her blush-colored lace underwear, grazing the light dusting of hair underneath.

There were only breaths between them.

Slow.

Heavy.

Breaths.

She leaned into him, letting him kiss her neck and finding that spot where her blood boiled underneath his lips. His nose traced her jaw, searching for her mouth, silently asking her to open herself to him, which she willingly did.

Their tongues danced, slow and tender, as she raised her arm to reach behind his neck, pulling him in to deepen their kiss. She felt his hand reaching further south, tracing her slit, delving into the wetness of her.

The sound escaping her at his intrusion surprised them both, heat building quickly as their movements became increasingly rushed.

Still standing behind her, fingers deep inside her, Harvey one-handedly removed her bra, the other hand reaching for the swell of her breast. 

“God, I’ve missed this,” he whispered against her neck, as his thumb brushed her bundle of nerves in the most loving way imaginable.

Squeezing her nipple, he signaled for her to turn around as his hands slipped out of her. She groaned at the loss of connection as her eyes met his in desperation and need.

Donna’s hands fell on his chest, hurriedly undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, ripping it off his shoulders together with his jacket so she could finally feel the naked skin underneath her fingertips. Pulling him in for another kiss, she pressed her heated core against his groin, a not so silent plea for him to give her more.

She needed more.

Now.

He lifted her up by her knees, gently throwing her on the bed, a surprised giggle leaving her as she landed in her silk sheets dancing around her. With hurried motion, Harvey undid his pants, stepping out of them before joining Donna in bed, hovering over her slender frame. 

Their lips rejoined in a hungry kiss, before his mouth walked the trail of freckles down her body, finding the pink peaks of her breasts, one fondled by his hand, the other engulfed by the warmth of his mouth. Her body arched at his touch, the sensation so groundbreakingly new and well-know at the same time, making her nails leave crescent marks on his back. 

She heaved for her breath, trying to catch up with her emotions and seriousness of the moment they were about to share. The way he made her feel vulnerable and wild at the same time, was something she’d remembered so profoundly after the last time they were in bed together, a feeling she never experienced in bed with anyone ever again after that.

Until now. 

Harvey’s hands were on her hips, hooking his thumbs underneath the lining of her lace panties, pulling them down her legs, her flower blooming openly and wild for him, inviting him to take in the spring he awoke in her. 

She dared a look in his eyes, the brown in them had now turned dark as night, sending a flush of heat to her center. His lust for her was imminent and raw, silently asking permission to engage. 

She nodded slowly, biting her lower lip. Then, she felt his hands tease their way up her legs, kneading her thighs gently before his mouth dived to her core, lips engulfing lips, causing waves of electricity throughout her whole body. His tongue and warm breath on her felt like a long welcomed breeze on a hot summer's day. 

His talent didn’t go unnoticed, there she laid in awe of the man now between her legs, him worshipping her as if she were a goddess. 

To him she probably was. 

And he was a god to her. 

She felt herself nearing the edge due to his carefully curated ministrations, and as much as she wanted to let go, more than that she needed to be one with him. 

“Harvey,” she breathed, nudging his hair between her fingers. “I’m _so_ close.”

He looked at her then, the mischievous grin she’d only associated with embarrassment and rage the last twenty-four hours plastered across his face. Now it ignited a spark in her so great she could’ve come right there and then. 

His eyes still fixed with hers, he removed his fingers from her core, moving them to her mouth for her to taste, with such care as if they were sharing in a holy sacrament. As if he’d just found the source of eternal life, needing for her to take part so he could be sure he’d never lose her. 

Sucking his fingers, she hummed pleasantly at the taste, the popping sound leaving her lips when she was done echoing solemnly in the room. 

She found his boxers then, his hard length bulging prominently underneath the only layer of clothes he had left. Taking them off, her hand grabbed his shaft, spreading the moisture he’d already spilled to prepare him for entering her gates. 

Lying back down she guided him to his entrance, letting him glide along her folds a couple of times. As he penetrated her, stretching her out, she hissed and she could swear time suddenly stood still.

As if the world suddenly paused.

In recognition of this significant moment. 

Everything went completely silent to the point one could’ve heard a needle drop to the ground. 

And when she let her breath go, the world started turning again. Harvey’s thrusts pumping into her wetness at a delicious pace, hitting that spot inside her like waves crushing willfully to the shore. She felt her breasts dance at his movements and her hand stroked his abs, wanting to feel his taut muscles underneath. 

He kept pushing into her heat, as if his life depended on it, as if _her_ life depended on it. And he wouldn’t give up until they both flew over the edge together in perfect sync. 

Finding her clit with his thumb, he pounded into her with such vigor; their breaths staggering and sweaty skin slapping against skin. As her climax came she felt her whole body shake into an arch, closed eyes, meeting his thrusts as she screamed his name into the dark, while he spilled inside of her. 

This time, when she came down from her high and opened her eyes, _he_ was still there. 

.

.

  
  


They both let hefty breaths escape them as their heads landed on the bed, bodies spent after the third round of the night.

“You were right, by the way,” Harvey said, eyes studying the ceiling above.

“I’m right about most things. You need to be a bit more specific than that.”

“About me being… jealous.”

She turned her head towards him, raising her brow in mockingly surprise. “Really? Harvey Specter, the best closer in the city, admitting to being jealous of a toy. If anyone ever told me, I’d never believed it.”

“But he got to do things to you that I’ve been dreaming of for years,” Harvey scorned.

“He?” Donna asked, slightly worried they weren’t talking about the item in her nightstand anymore. 

“You haven’t named it?”

“It’s a _toy_ , Harvey. Why on earth would I give it a name?” she chuckled. 

“I just thought… never mind.”

“No chance in hell I’m letting you wiggle your way outta this one, Specter,” she said, laughing as she slapped his chest. “Spill!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly regretting he said anything in the first place. “I might’ve seen an interview with some celebrity on a talk-show telling all about how she named hers.”

“What talk-show?” Donna asked in surprise. 

“ _That_ I’m never telling you.”

She climbed on top of him then, her knees resting on each side of his torso leaning down to whisper in his ear. “If you tell me I’ll let you have your way with me. No limits.” She wiggled her brows, fully knowing he’d never be able to resist her temptation. 

“It’s Oprah,” he spit out, stumbling over his words, not able to hold back. “I watch Oprah every now and then.”

“I might need to re-evaluate this arrangement,” she chuckled. “I don’t know if I can handle my man being a softie.”

He knew she was joking, but it wasn’t the joke that made him pause. 

“ _Your_ man?”

“My man,” she nodded, a loving smile etched across her face. Moving closer to him, her lips hovering over his, she whispered lustfully. “And now we’re going to see if he can stand a chance against Gregory.”

“So you _did_ name it?”

“No… but I _might._ ”

.

.

She never gave that toy a name. 

Osé was the last one-night stand she ever had. 

.

.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I’d love to hear what you think about the story!
> 
> Disclaimer: I have NOT tried said device. Don’t take this story as a recommendation. Please do your own research before buying.


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